Rufus looked very entertained.

You caught the faint curl of a smirk every time someone's gaze lingered on you too long. He leaned down once, murmuring low enough for only you to hear, "Careful, my dearest "spouse" you are making them jealous."

The words dripped with amusement, his tone making it unclear if he meant the crowd or himself.

When your necklace clasp shifted slightly, he stepped in without warning, fingers brushing the back of your neck as he fixed it. The touch was casual in appearance but deliberate enough to make your breath catch. His smirk widened just a fraction at the reaction, though he said nothing.

The rest of the night, he played his role flawlessly, a devoted husband, if slightly smug about it. His glances were just sharp enough to make you feel seen, just warm enough to make the crowd believe.

When the banquet ended and the two of you stepped outside, the night air was cold. No one was watching now, no reporters, no paparazzi, no one but Rufus still shrugged off his coat and draped it over your shoulders, his hands lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

"What kind of husband would I be if I let you freeze?" His voice was softer than expected. Not a hint of mockery.

...he really should have become a professional actor.